


A Nice Relaxing Massage

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Massage, Oberyn is amused, Older Man/Younger Woman, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sansa is highly pleased with everything, Shameless Smut, Stannis is confused about what is happening, Stannis is painfully straight, Threesome - F/M/M, boner angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:16:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7370578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis gets conned into going to a 'medicinal spa' for a relaxing massage. It's not quite what he expected. </p><p>Total crack fic with no plot. Just smut! Enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nice Relaxing Massage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silberias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silberias/gifts).



> Big thanks to Silberias for beta reading! She was such a big help. ♥
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** GRRM owns the characters and would probably be appalled at the very idea of the situation I've put them in. Sorry not sorry.

Stannis’ heart was beating a little harder than it usually did. How had he got himself into this situation?

He should have told Renly to get stuffed. He should have told him that he didn’t care about the thousands of gold dragons that would be wasted because Renly had paid for a visit to this absurd medicinal spa and couldn’t get a refund when it turned out that he couldn’t keep his appointment. Stannis had almost ended up changing his mind in the parking lot. He’d spent half an hour going back and forth in his head, thinking that this was stupid, but then wondering if it might not be… relaxing to get a massage for the first time in life. Renly certainly always looked relaxed.

Too late to back out now. He had been ushered into this room he was currently in, and left to wait on his own. The room was dimly lit and lavish. There was priceless furniture all around him, but he couldn’t seem to look away from the enormous bed.

The bed frame was a work of art, dark wood with elaborate carvings. It was a four-poster with heavy velvet hangings, and the interior looked very inviting. Silk damask covers and too many pillows to count. It was the very image of luxury and sensuality, and there was nothing about it that fit Stannis’ personality in the _least._

He was utilitarian person. His bed at home was a single, and he had precisely one pillow. His sheets were cotton. (Cotton breathed.)

Stannis had never had a massage before, but he really hadn’t been expecting a bed. One of those benches with a hole for the face maybe, but not a _bed._

“Ah, you made it,” someone said in a smooth, masculine voice, and Stannis turned around in a circle, searching for the speaker in the large room. His muscles ached from how tense he was, and his heart - which had already been beating faster than it should - was now thundering. Stannis _hated_ not knowing things. He hated walking into a situation that he had no idea how to deal with. He tried to look calm, but he felt anything but.

There hadn’t been a door there before -- right?

The man who closed the door with a soft _click_ took a moment to place but Stannis quickly stiffened as he recognised Oberyn Martell. Infamous brawler, ruthless chairman of the board at Martell Acquisitions, and a man whose carnal pursuits rivaled those of Casanova. Hadn’t there been a rumour that he’d been a male stripper at one point…?

That door had definitely not been there a moment ago.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Martell said conversationally, walking over to a handsome armchair and sitting down. He was wearing a light silk robe, and Stannis thought it was strange anyone would willingly wear a robe of that particular colour: a dusky orange.

Stannis liked to wear black. Black didn’t show stains. Black was _serious._ The robe left out for him had been a horribly gaudy gold and Stannis had never been gladder to have stayed properly dressed.

“What?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

“The bed. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s absurd,” Stannis said, crossing his hands over his chest.

Oberyn grinned, clearly amused. “Come. Sit. Have some wine.” He poured himself a glass from the crystal carafe on the table next to his chair.

“I don’t drink wine and I’d rather stand.”

“Trust me, Baratheon. You’re going to want some wine in a minute.”

“No.”

The two men looked at each other. Stannis was glaring, but Martell just seemed vaguely amused. Stannis’ heart was still pounding.

There was a knock at the door Stannis had been pushed through ten or so minutes ago and he only barely resisted jumping.

“Come in,” Martell said, his voice relaxed and almost cheerful. The man spoke with a Dornish accent that put Stannis in mind of caramel.

Stannis did not like caramel.

“Hi, is this the right room? I’m here to replace Loras…” A redheaded girl who was probably half Stannis’ age had walked into the room. She looked a little nervous and was keeping one hand on the door handle.

What sort of situation _was this?_

“You have the right number,” Martell said, smiling at the girl. “You’re with me, tonight.”

She smiled in return, looking relieved. She let go of the door handle and walked to stand beside Stannis. She was wearing a robe, too. A silvery grey one. It clung to her rather indecently, and Stannis was doing his best to ignore it. He was failing, if the quirk of Martell’s eyebrow was any indication.

“So, are you both ready?” the girl asked, looking a lot less nervous. There was even an excited sort of gleam in her blue eyes. She seemed to be pleased with him in particular. Her eyes were lingering on his torso and there was an eager smile on her lips. It was deeply disturbing.

 _Ready for what?_ Stannis really didn’t know what was going on.

“You know I’m always ready, Sansa,” Martell said with a smirk.

“How about you? You’re name is Renly, isn’t it?” The girl, Sansa, had placed one of her palms on his chest, and she was looking up at him with the sweetest expression he had ever seen on a woman’s face.

“No.” He hurried to say. He was most definitely not Renly.

“Oh,” Sansa said. She looked a bit taken aback. She glanced at Martell, her brow furrowed.

“It’s all right. Renly sent his brother to take his place, he had,” Martell waved his hand nonchalantly, “business that couldn’t be put off. This is the middle Baratheon. Stannis, I think it was?”

Stannis nodded jerkily, feeling completely out of his depth.

“Well, are you ready, Stannis?” Sansa asked, her voice a sensual caress. Her hand was burning him through his shirt.

He nodded, even though he was in no way, shape or form ready for whatever it was that was about to happen.

Stannis was going to _kill_ Renly for this.

“Why don’t you sit down, then?” Sansa gave him a bit of a push, and for some reason his body decided to obey her gentle request like a command from on high.

He sat in the chair next to Martell and glanced at the crystal carafe on the table between them. Why had Martell said that Stannis would want some wine?

He heard a rustle of fabric and tensed up. He didn’t dare look away from the carafe. It had sounded rather a lot like Sansa had just dropped her robe. Did that mean she was… naked?

His traitorous eyes snuck a very quick peek. A quick peek that accidentally turned into a prolonged bout of staring.

She wasn’t naked. She was wearing a very pretty negligé. It made her breasts look very… prominent. And it didn’t really _cover_ her. It was just… making it seem like it would be incredibly pleasant to touch her. Stannis had never seen anyone wear such a thing up close in _real life_. He had seen some pictures, but that was about it. His trousers were becoming embarrassingly tight.

He forced himself to look away. This situation was extremely upsetting. Maybe Martell was right about the wine.

“So… Stannis, what would you like first?” she asked. He could tell that she had moved to stand right in front of him, and he hoped that if he ignored her she would go away.

He had been expecting something along the lines of a massage from a stocky Dothraki woman with more muscle than brain matter. Perhaps some hot rocks being placed along the column of his spine. He’d seen an ad for something like that on television, once. What sort of medicinal spa had Renly sent him to?

She sat on his lap.

Would his heart be able to handle this? It was beating like it was really trying to escape his ribcage. He was too young to have a heart attack, wasn’t he?

“You’re so tense,” she murmured, placing her arms around his neck in a loose embrace.

Seven hells. Her breasts were right _there._ He kept his eyes closed so that he wouldn’t be tempted to ogle the cleavage Sansa flaunting right in front of his face.

“I think that means we should move to the bed and start the massage.” Sansa’s voice was so soothing that he almost started to relax despite himself. But then her words registered.

“Massage? In bed?” he asked, trying in vain to wet his mouth. It was so dry.

Was he about to have a heart attack because Renly had booked some sort of ridiculously fancy… erotic... massage instead of a _normal_ massage with hot rocks and things?

Sansa hummed instead of telling him more about this bed massage business.

“I think you’re right,” Martell said, addressing Sansa and reminding Stannis that he was still in the room.

“Come and sit on the bed,” Sansa whispered. “You’ll be more comfortable that way.”

“First he has to take off his clothes,” Martell said, with the air of reminding someone of a very basic fact.

“No,” Stannis said, “I won’t.” A neck rub. He could just have a neck rub and then leave. With all his clothes safely on. 

A spot on his back was starting to go numb he was so tense. That couldn’t be good for him.

“I promise it will be just what you need,” Sansa said, her soothing voice somehow making it a little easier for him to take deep breaths. When he inhaled he could smell the perfume of her skin, and he was fairly sure no human being ought to be allowed to smell like that.

She started to undress him, and for some completely bizarre reason he didn’t stop her. It was as if something about her manner made him… docile.

No. That wasn’t it. It was just that he could do with a massage, really. Davos was always telling him he needed to relax. And Stannis had read that massages were quite good for the lymphatic system. This was… this was just a responsible thing to do. For his health.

He ended up sitting on the edge of the bed in his underwear, trying his best to ignore the fact that the most infamous playboy in Westeros was currently in the room, and focusing on the way Sansa was touching him. Her hands were doing something _magical_ to the knotted muscles around his neck and shoulders.

“Almond oil?” Martell said, breaking Stannis’ concentration.

“Thanks,” Sansa said, accepting the proffered oil.

Stannis glared at Martell. “Does he have to stay here?” Stannis didn’t really understand why Martell was in the room to begin with. Didn’t he have somewhere to be? A brawl to start? A business meeting to attend?

“I’m afraid so,” Sansa said, starting to massage him with the mildly scented oil.

 _Fuck._ He had never been this hard in his life. “Why?”

“That’s just how we do things, here.” Her tone was light and friendly, and she just sounded so _reasonable._ Why should he argue?

Sansa massaged his neck, shoulders and back for a while, and Martell stayed mostly out of sight. It got increasingly unbearable for Stannis to ignore his erection, but he clenched his jaw and did it anyway.

Perhaps it was a good idea to have Martell in the room. Many men in Stannis’ shoes would have started doing something… impolite by now.

Suddenly, right as Stannis was thinking about _adjusting_ himself just to see if he could relieve a bit of the pressure that was driving him mad, Sansa got up from her position behind him on the bed and knelt on the floor in front of him instead. He inhaled sharply, and was about to ask her what in the seven hells she thought she was doing, when she started to massage his feet.

It was _sublime._

He stared down at her in shock, watching as she used liberal amounts of oil to make it easier for her hands to glide over his skin. His leg hairs looked very long and dark when they got plastered to him due to the oil. She shot him a shy smile.

“Good?” she whispered, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

He didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded. There was no way she was not aware of his arousal. It was tenting his underwear rather spectacularly, and… well. It was all right in front of her face, wasn’t it?

Stannis had to bite his tongue to keep a moan from escaping when she started to move from his feet and up to his calves, massaging him with sure fingers that clearly knew what they were about. When she moved on to his thighs he was no longer able to contain himself.

His low moan seemed very loud in the silent room, and he felt himself redden. He didn’t want her to stop, but this was embarrassing.

“You know I can massage you anywhere you want,” Sansa said, biting her lip and raising an eyebrow. She looked flirtatious and a little coy. “Just say the word.”

Stannis glanced around, looking for Martell. Was that true? Was this… was this a massage with a - what was it called? - ‘happy ending’? He managed to catch Martell’s eye after a bit of a search, and Martell nodded, looking amused. It made sense; suddenly it all made sense.

He looked back down at Sansa. She seemed to be waiting for him to instruct her.

“Oh, er, just… um. Do what you would normally do?” Stannis said, clearing his throat at least twice while trying to get the words out. His voice cracked despite his best efforts, and he felt hot and cold all over. Was he really agreeing to let her do this?

Sansa smiled very widely. “You’re going to have to take these off for that.” She touched his boxer briefs for a moment, steering clear of the bulge.

Stannis really didn’t like the idea of Martell seeing him naked, but the idea of Sansa massaging his cock was too much for his frayed nerves to handle. He stripped.

It was as if his heart was beating in his throat, and he stared at Sansa, wanting to see every bit of her reaction. Her _honest_ reaction. He didn’t want her to put on some sort of theatre production about how she’d never seen a bigger one in her life.

Disappointingly, she betrayed nothing. She simply started to massage his thighs again, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips.

It was odd to feel so tense and so relaxed at the same time. He was waiting on tenterhooks for her to start touching him where he needed her to, but he was also quite enjoying the way she was massaging the long muscles of his thighs.

After an eternity she pulled back to pour more oil into her hand, giving him a look that was definitely a bit more heated than all of her previous ones. Was she about to… ?

_Yes._

As soon as she started to massage his cock with both of her hands, oiling it up and making him moan again - much more loudly than before - he suddenly felt hands touching his back.

“Martell?” he choked out, trying to sound angry but not quite able to with Sansa’s hands occupied the way that they were.

“Just relax,” Martell said, massaging his back with hands that were significantly larger and stronger than Sansa’s. It actually felt annoyingly good, and it was making it very difficult for Stannis to think of something suitably scathing to say.

Stannis might have been able to collect his wits and figure out a way to get Martell to back off if Sansa hadn’t started to oil up his balls and then _suck_ on the head of his cock, massaging it rather intimately with her tongue.

He inhaled sharply and considered dying. He was unlikely to ever feel this physically good again. Why not just leave on a high note?

“What… what is this?” he groaned.

“It’s enjoyable,” Martell murmured, running his hands up and down Stannis’ back, still slick with the almond oil Sansa had used when she had been massaging him.

With Sansa licking and stroking his cock and fondling his balls it was hard to argue with Martell’s statement.

“Get off,” he ordered, wishing that Martell would go back to being invisible.

“Do you want her to keep going?” Martell asked with his caramel accent.

She had started to suck properly, bobbing her head up and down, and Stannis would die if she stopped now. It was bliss. Sheer, unadulterated bliss.

“... Yes,” he choked out, gripping the silk damask that surrounded him tightly.

“Then why not let me massage your back? This is a massage after all, and she is busy.”

 _Oh._ Well, Stannis supposed that made sense.

It made sense and it felt like heaven. He’d never admit it to a living soul, but receiving a blowjob and a back massage at the same time, even if the back massage was from a famous manwhore of a Dornishman, was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Feeling a little like he was doing something he shouldn’t, he tentatively released his death grip on the sheets and let his hand rest very gently on Sansa’s head. She looked at him with a smile in her eyes, and he risked a firmer grip, letting his fingers weave through her soft hair. She hummed, and the sound created vibrations around his cock that felt absolutely fucking amazing.

He tensed up when he felt Martell’s lips on his neck.

“Do not do that,” he snapped, feeling his previous tension rush back into him. Sansa slowed in her eager bobbing, her tongue still against his cock. Her blue eyes stared up at him but also with a hint of a glance at Martell.

“A massage is all right, but not a little kissing? You’re a very unadventurous sort.” Martell snorted and went back to rubbing his back without further _kissing._ Sansa seemed to decide their sparring was over and returned to sucking on him with practiced ease.

Stannis was already flushed due to… one thing and another, but he felt his face burn with anger and embarrassment now.

“I didn’t sign up for any man to kiss me.”

“Did you sign up for her doing what she’s doing?”

“... No.”

“But you’re enjoying it?”

Stannis blew out an irritated breath. “I was trying to enjoy it, but now--nngh,” he couldn’t finish the sentence as Sansa mimicked a swallowing motion. Not quite actually swallowing anything but there was that promise of it...

“Would you prefer to watch me give her a massage as she pleasures you?” Martell was smirking, and the smirk widened into a grin when he observed Stannis fail to conceal that he liked that idea. He liked it _a lot._

Something pedantic in him decided that he had to point out the obvious, however. “I thought I was the one who was supposed to receive a massage?”

“Well… she is massaging you with her tongue, no?” Martell was smirking again.

Stannis realised this was a good time to shut up and just nod.

“We shall have to change our positions around a little,” Martell said. He told Stannis to lie down properly on the bed instead of sitting on the edge. He then encouraged Sansa to make herself comfortable between Stannis’ spread thighs. His cock went without being touched for less than a minute, but it seemed like a very long time to be apart from her.

There were pillows behind him, propping him up, so it was easy to watch as Sansa began to pleasure him again, using her wonderful hands and her soft, warm, _wet_ mouth. He saw Martell, too. The man had dropped his robe at some point, and was only wearing silk boxer briefs in the same dusky orange shade. Stannis was not attracted to men the way his younger brother was, but he could admit that Oberyn Martell was a very handsome specimen. His body was tight with muscle, nicely proportioned, tanned and smooth.

It was strange to watch as Martell began to massage Sansa’s neck and shoulder, holding her hair back and making it easy for Stannis to observe everything. Strange and arousing. Martell and Sansa were both incredibly attractive people, and there was just something very… erotic about seeing them together.

It didn’t hurt that Sansa started humming around his cock again due to Martell’s touch.

Stannis had to close his eyes for a moment. He couldn’t decide whether he wanted this blowjob to last forever or whether he wanted her to speed up and let him _come._

“Would you like to fuck her?” Martell purred, causing Stannis to snap his eyes back open.

His face felt very hot.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” The smirk was back on Martell’s face. “Sansa? Would you like to have sex with Stannis?”

Sansa let his cock escape from between her lips with a pop. “I think that would feel lovely,” she said, smiling prettily at them both and pushing the straps of her negligé down and off her shoulders. Her exposed breasts jiggled a little as she moved around and got herself completely naked.

Stannis felt a little like his cognitive reasoning had stopped functioning. All he could see were those perfect breasts.

His cock jumped when she straddled his thighs. She smiled. “Someone’s eager,” she said, reaching for his painfully hard length and guiding it to her folds without saying anything else. Stannis stared at her hand, his cock and the neat little patch of red curls that covered her mound. When he felt the head come into contact with her, his entire body twitched. A wild electric shock.

She was wet for him, wet and soft and… _oh._

When he saw Martell settle himself behind Sansa, his large dark hands coming around to massage her ivory breasts and pinch her nipples, he was reminded of the need for protection. This was probably not the first… full body massage this girl had given.

“Condom?” he choked out, hoping that he hadn’t already picked something unsavoury up.

“Don’t worry,” Martell said, “we run a tight ship. You can go without the latex if you like.”

Stannis frowned, his mind too flooded with pleasure to process much else than the heat his cock was just inches from sinking into. “How do you know I won’t give her something?”

Martell grinned. “We have our ways.”

“I don’t do this with just anyone,” Sansa whispered, giving Stannis a heated look. “Usually I just use my hands.”

Stannis frowned. What made him so different? He had barely spoken to the girl. It seemed very unlikely that she was telling the truth. Just a bit of theatre to make him feel special.

“Really,” she said, still holding his cock and rubbing herself against him without taking him inside, “I happen to like you.”

Now he knew she was lying, but it was hard to focus on what she was saying, he was dying to place his hands on her hips, pull her down and thrust up...

“You don’t remember me, do you?” Sansa said, still rubbing herself slowly all over his cock.

“No,” he managed. “Do I know you?” He was fairly sure he would have remembered a girl like Sansa.

“My name is Sansa Stark, if that helps,” she said, letting the head of his cock slip inside.

He made a strangled noise. Stark. Tight. Hot. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._

Martell had still been fondling Sansa’s breasts, but he paused and slapped Stannis’ thigh in a friendly sort of way, laughing with delight. “You should see the look on your face!”

“Don’t tease him, Oberyn,” Sansa scolded. She closed her eyes, and took more of Stannis’ cock inside her, moaning in the most gorgeous, arousing way.

 _She’s a Stark?_ Stannis thought, feeling overwrought. Was he fucking Ned Stark’s daughter? He was fairly sure, now that he thought about it, that he had met Ned’s kids at some point, and that there had been a pretty little redheaded girl.

“I met you when I was ten,” she told him with a breathy sigh. She had just managed to sit down fully, taking all of him inside. She started to grind herself onto him lightly, creating just a whisper of friction. “I thought you were very mysterious and... _tall._ ”

 _Tall?_ He tried to make sense of what she was saying, but his brain was refusing to cooperate. She felt perfect around him. So fucking hot and tight and soaking _wet._

He watched as Martell started to kiss Sansa’s neck as he went back to fondling her perfect breasts, making Stannis’ palms itch with jealousy. It was a very erotic visual, but he would really like to touch her himself.

He shouldn’t, though. He shouldn’t even be inside her at all. She was twenty years old at the very most, and she was Ned’s _daughter._ Why on earth was she working at this mysterious massage parlour?

Sansa rolled her hips, making him close his eyes for a moment and groan.

“I wasn’t sure it was you at first, but when Oberyn told me your name I remembered... “ Sansa’s eyes were hooded and there was a faint blush colouring her cheeks.

Martell stopped licking Sansa’s neck. “Lucky man, this one has a crush on you,” he said, pinching both Sansa’s nipples at once and making her gasp. Stannis could feel her inner walls clenching up around him.

She started to grind herself on him a lot faster, and Stannis lost the battle he had been waging with his hips and their urge to thrust. He began to buck up, grabbing her hips in an attempt to steer her and create some sort of sensible rhythm.

“Oh! Yes!” she cried out, sounding genuinely ecstatic. “Harder!”

Stannis did his best, and he couldn’t help but notice that Martell seemed to have listened to her, too. He was pinching her nipples harder, working the pebbled peaks ruthlessly. Sansa clearly liked it, since she clenched up tightly with each pinch.

After a little while he was getting close, unable to withstand the pleasure that was assaulting all his senses. The feel of her, the tight fit and the friction, the sounds she was making - whimpers and increasingly desperate cries - the visual of Martell’s hands on her gorgeous breasts, and the _smell._ The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, making Stannis’ balls tighten up with excitement.

Sansa’s whimpers became louder and louder, until finally -

“No, I need more, please,” Sansa begged, “can we change positions? I need it really hard.”

She was already getting off, his cock slipping out of her with a loud wet noise, and before Stannis knew what had happened, he had been tugged and shoved into place, his cock poised to enter her from behind. He swallowed a few times, and looked at Martell.

“She wants you to fuck her hard,” Martell said with a smirk. “Are you going to disappoint the lady?”

Stannis looked back down at Sansa. She was on all fours in front of him, her thighs spread. Her waist looked very small from this vantage point, and the cheeks of her arse looked very round and tempting.

Stannis scowled at Martell. “No, of course not.” He guided the head of his cock to her entrance and pushed inside with a determined thrust. She made a sinful noise of pure pleasure.

He was so close. Too close. He wouldn’t be able to last very long at all if he was to fuck her like she clearly wanted him to. Hard and fast.

_Are you going to disappoint the lady?_

Martell’s challenge echoed in his ears. Stannis would just have to force himself not to come too soon. Mind over matter. If he thought about cyvasse or something he might be able to get her to come before he finished.

His mind made up, Stannis clenched his jaw and began to fuck Sansa Stark as hard as he possibly could.

She started to make the sorts of sounds that Stannis had always thought women only made when they were exaggerating, but it was clear that she wasn’t pretending. Hearing her sound like that because of his cock was really much too arousing. 

It was not conductive to his plan of getting her to come before he did.

_Cyvasse… cyvasse…_

“Do you want to watch her suck my cock as you fuck her?” Martell asked conversationally.

Stannis made a strangled sound and almost came.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Martell pushed his underwear down to reveal a very dark, very thick cock. It was a little shorter than Stannis’, however, so he decided not to feel too jealous. He couldn’t look away as Martell moved into position right in front of Sansa’s head.

“How about it?” Martell murmured at her, his hands stroking her hair and her cheek.

She moaned and reached for Martell’s cock, stroking it and accepting it into her mouth when he pressed forward.

Stannis hated the idea of sharing her like this, but there was a filthy, long-repressed part of him that enjoyed the visual nonetheless.

The next thirty seconds of Stannis’ life were probably what his filthy, long-repressed self had been waiting for since he had first experienced true sexual arousal as a young teenager. It was pure carnal pleasure at its finest, and Stannis almost felt like he was vibrating with erotic energy. He knew, as he thrust as hard as his muscles would allow, his tight balls smacking against Sansa’s body, his eyes fixed on the way she was sucking on another man’s cock, that he would be jerking off to this memory for the rest of his life.

He had no idea if Sansa was coming or not, but she was tight around him as he lost all control and started to climax harder than he would have believed possible before this. He couldn’t feel his body. He had gone numb, and all he could feel was the _release._

Stannis was moving his hips slowly, still a little hard and still inside her, enjoying the post-orgasmic glow. The next words out of Martell’s mouth were the opposite of what he wanted to hear.

“Looks like you just finished him off,” Martell said, sounding amused. “Want me to take over?”

It was like having cold water dumped all over his head. Martell didn’t think he had managed to satisfy Sansa.

He heard a familiar popping noise as Sansa released Martell’s cock from her mouth. “Yes, please.”

That _stung._

The muscles of his thighs were too weak for him to be able to resist when Sansa pulled away from him.

He sat down, his back to the pillows that were piled behind him, his legs stretched out in front of him. He was frowning and a feeling a little upset.

“What’s wrong?” Sansa asked, her voice concerned. She had turned to face him, exposing her backside to Martell. She made a small ‘mm’ sound when Martell entered her and started to fuck her from behind the way Stannis had just been doing.

 _What’s wrong? I wasn’t enough for you. Martell has ten years on me if he has a day and he can still go the distance. That’s what’s wrong._ He didn’t say anything out loud.

Sansa moved until her hands were on either side of his torso, her breasts pressed to his chest, her head inches from his own. Martell was pounding himself into her, causing her to be pressed closer, rocking against him.

She closed the distance between their lips and kissed him. She tasted like another man’s cock, but Stannis didn’t care. Her lips were soft and her tongue felt good as it tangled playfully with his.

When their kiss broke she smiled. “Don’t be upset. You can help me come if you want?”

His brows furrowed. How was he supposed to do that with Martell’s cock getting in the way? She couldn’t mean for him to go in as well?

“I love having my nipples played with,” she whispered, derailing his utterly filthy train of thought, moving to clutch the carved bed frame behind Stannis and arching her back until her breasts were right in front of his face.

His mouth went very dry. He was allowed to play with her breasts now? It took him a moment to process this.

“Please,” she moaned, “I need you to lick my nipples. Pinch them, too.”

Galvanised into action by her words, Stannis began to do just that, liking the way she gasped with pleasure as soon as he began.

It was good to feel like he was helping her reach her peak, and it was satisfying to hear the way she seemed to be making sounds more in response to what he was doing than in response to Martell. When he flicked his tongue very fast over one nipple while pinching the other she moaned his name, and when he used both his hands to hold her breasts together so that he’d be able to suck on her nipples in turn without having to move his head very far to get from one to the other, she encouraged him, asking him to keep going. (“Just like that! Oh, gods! Just like that, Stannis, please don’t stop!”)

He was almost hard again by the time her voice had become high-pitched and her cries more drawn out and incoherent.

“Please, Stannis, please, pinch them, pinch them now!”

He hurried to comply, pinching a little harder than he had dared before, and when she screamed, causing Martell to grunt and make sounds that made it obvious that he was climaxing, Stannis felt himself harden fully again.

Sansa and Martell ended up lying flat on their backs next to him - Sansa in the middle - and Stannis wondered if it would be considered impolite if he asked for another go.

“I think Mr. Lucky wants more,” Martell murmured after a while, still managing to sound amused. “Maybe he has a crush on you, too.” He was obviously talking to Sansa, but it was impossible for Stannis not to overhear in the quiet room.

“Do you want more, Stannis?” Sansa asked, sounding curious and excited. She had turned her head to look at him, and when her eyes darted towards the lower part of his body he didn’t try to cover himself with any of the silk damask. “Would you like to be on top of me?” she whispered, her tone tempting.

He didn’t answer her. He just rolled himself into a position he would be able to mount her from, trying to ignore Martell. She spread and lifted her thighs to cradle his hips accommodatingly, gazing up at him with hooded eyes.

There was a very unpleasant wet noise when he entered her, and Stannis was reminded of the fact that both he and Martell had already spent themselves inside her. He stopped thinking about it as soon as he heard her moan his name, however. He’d love to listen to her moan his name for the rest of eternity.

“How would you like it?” he asked, his voice strained. He was starting off slow, but he wanted to know what she wanted. “Do you want it like this? Or faster? Harder?”

“Mmm, this is good for now,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed and a look of pleasure settling over her features.

Stannis rolled his hips, trying to establish a slow rhythm that would allow him to reach all her deepest, most hidden places.

He felt Sansa start to knead his arse and groaned at the pleasurable touch. He clenched the large muscles she was touching, hoping to impress her with how hard he could make them. Her fingers started to explore, and he was unable to keep from quickening his pace a little when one of her fingertips slipped in between his arse cheeks to rub him in a way he had never been touched in his life. He felt his face redden and his heart jump in his chest.

Sansa cupped his face with her hands and kissed him, and her tongue felt so good in his mouth that for a few seconds he forgot that it was impossible for her to touch his face and his arse at the same time.

When the kiss broke he hissed out an irritated breath. “Let go of my arse, Martell.”

“I thought you liked it?” Martell purred. His hands were still where Stannis didn’t want them, a tip of a finger exerting a bit of pressure that really shouldn’t feel that good. “Do you know how it feels to have your prostate tickled from this direction?”

“Get off,” Stannis snapped, his face burning.

“There’s nothing wrong with trying it,” Sansa whispered, her voice throaty and sensual. He could feel her clenching up around his cock. “I think it’s hot…”

Sansa got off on the thought of Martell fingering him in the arse? He felt himself redden even more. Wasn’t that a bit… deviant?

Martell squeezed his arse lightly, and pulled his finger back. “I won’t force you,” he said, sounding somehow amused and serious at the same time.

“I... “ Stannis almost considered it for a second when he felt Sansa clench up again. Would she be that tight around him the whole time if he let Martell…? “No. I - no.” He just couldn’t handle the idea. It wasn’t for him, not today. Probably not ever.

“Your loss,” Martell said, now running his hands over Stannis’ back. He was slick with sweat and almond oil, and Martell’s hands felt very good. “If you weren’t so hopelessly straight I might have considered fucking your uptight arse, and you have no idea how loudly our little Sansa would have screamed with us both on top of her.”

Stannis clenched his jaw very hard and turned his head to glare at Martell. “Shut up. I’m trying to concentrate.”

Martell laughed and shook his head, but he didn’t say anything else. Stannis wasn’t sure if he was dismayed or pleased that the man kept stroking his back.

“Gods, Stannis…” Sansa moaned, “I need - could you - oh - _faster…_ ”

Stannis sped up, liking the messy wet thwacks his movements created and inhaling deeply to enjoy the way the air was completely saturated with the smell of sex.

Sansa seemed pleased with this for a while, and he felt himself getting closer as she moaned continuously.

“Heavier - I mean, harder - I mean - _please…_ ”

Stannis was getting tired, but he tried to do as she asked, putting his back into his thrusts and letting Sansa feel his weight. Somewhere David Bowie was probably singing about a mellow thighed chick putting a spine out of place.

“Yes - more - more!”

He did his best, but no matter how hard he thrust she did not seem to be satisfied.

“Do you want me to help?” Martell asked her.

“Yes!” she cried out, clenching up around Stannis’ cock like a vice.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fuck you,” Martell murmured as he pressed his chest to Stannis’ back, lending him his weight.

Stannis tried not to think about the way _something_ was poking him, and focused on the ecstatic cries that were coming from Sansa now that she had the weight of two men bearing down on her.

Martell picked up on the rhythm Stannis had established, and moved his body seamlessly along with Stannis’ in order to add power to each thrust. It was sweaty, sticky and much too hot, and Stannis had the strange thought that this was what it felt like to be the meat inside the sandwich. He didn’t protest because Sansa was clearly on the verge of coming again, and he wanted to feel what it was like.

This time he managed to keep from finishing before she did. This time he got to feel the way her inner muscles fluttered and squeezed him as she screamed like Martell had promised, and then sobbed with relief. This time he got to feel like he had accomplished something _wonderful_ when he allowed his own orgasm to overwhelm him.

Martell got off of him without having to be asked, but Stannis was fairly sure it was more out of respect and concern for Sansa than for him. He rolled off her as well, letting her breathe. Stannis made sure to roll to the left since Martell had gone to the right. He really didn’t want to lie next to Martell while they were both naked and covered in sweat. Having Sansa in the middle was much better.

“That was _amazing,_ ” Sansa said, her voice a happy sigh.

Stannis agreed, though he didn’t say anything out loud.

“I don’t know about that, I’m still not quite finished,” Martell groused. “Someone is a little too straight for this sort of thing. Not a team player.”

Stannis felt his face start to burn again.

“Do you want me to finish you off?” Sansa asked, her tone sweet but also a little tired.

“No,” Martell said, “I think you’re done for the night. I’ll take care of this myself.” There was an affectionate note to his voice, something soft that flooded Stannis with jealousy.

He stared at the canopy quite intently, refusing to glance over at Martell. He could hear that Martell was jacking himself off, and he couldn’t quite avoid catching the movement out of the corner of his eye. The jealousy started to dissipate and he was grateful for it. 

“Do you want Stannis to play with my breasts so you can at least have something interesting to look at?” Sansa offered. Her voice was absurdly sincere.

Martell groaned. “Sansa, you’re too good to me…”

Was no one going to ask him if he was willing to provide Martell with wank material? Because he wasn’t.

“Stannis?” Sansa rose up to her elbows and looked down at him. “Could you please play with my nipples? It was _so_ good when you did it before…” She trailed off and bit her lip.

It was impossible to resist her.

Before he knew it he was squeezing her breasts together and sucking on her nipples while Martell jerked off quite loudly.

“Sansa,” Martell panted after a pretty decent amount of time. “Would you mind if I came on your gorgeous breasts?”

Stannis had been using both thumbs to rub circles around her puckered nipples, enjoying the way Sansa had been squirming and sighing, but he removed his hands as if her skin was suddenly radioactive when she told Martell that she didn’t mind. He wasn’t ready for something like that. Not right now, but he would be lying if he tried to say he disliked the idea of the visual.

Stannis’ mouth went a little dry as he watched Martell put one knee on either side of Sansa’s waist, his hand working furiously as he aimed the head of his cock at her chest.

Martell came with several grunts, and three rather impressive spurts of semen landed all over Sansa’s soft breasts. She mewled as it happened, and Stannis suddenly felt a lot less resentful about the wank material he had just provided Martell with. Seeing Sansa’s breasts glistening with come was something he would probably use to get himself off at some point.

This time when they ended up lying on their backs, side by side, covered in sweat, oil and… other things, none of them moved or spoke for several minutes.

It was Sansa who finally broke the silence.

“I hope you become a regular, Stannis.”

Stannis felt his cock twitch optimistically.

_I hope so, too._


End file.
